


Little Lion Man

by Miserykilledme



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, OC, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miserykilledme/pseuds/Miserykilledme
Summary: Whiplash made many mistakes and always there was something there to help clean the mess. Now he’s all alone and breaking, but there’s no one there to pick up the pieces.
Kudos: 1





	Little Lion Man

**Author's Note:**

> This a fic about my Transformers oc Whiplash. 
> 
> He’s an ex-con seeker who feel in love with a triple changer bounty hunter but ultimately ruined his relationship with his family and friends because of mistakes he made.

Little Lion Man  
“Weep for yourself, my man  
You'll never be what is in your heart  
Weep, little lion man  
You're not as brave as you were at the start”

Whiplash sat silently at a local bar, a small glass of high grade in his servo. He swirled it around absentmindedly. The last time he remembered feeling so hollow was….well..he never experienced the feeling before. His life had been a good one. Sure, he was an ex-con seeker who fought in the war for four million plus years and lost a plethora of friends, but he had his trine. His siblings. And he had his conjunx-....his ex-conjunx endura. 

He used to have them. But his sister, she left. Left no trace of where she fled to. But that was his fault. He framed her for his actions. Not on purpose per say, but he made no actions to correct the mistake when it happened. 

His brother...well…his brother betrayed him. As did the femme he so loved. He had gone away for a bit. To try and heal himself. See the wrongs he’s done and become whole again. He planned on surprising them with his progress. He was allowed to visit family and he wanted to take the opportunity and prove he was getting better, but halfway through the trip he felt it. His spark pulse with feelings only had during...intimacy. And he damn well knew they weren’t coming from him. 

The moment he felt the pleasure and ecstasy, the bond between them burst to life as his spark and mind flared with pain and grief. He couldn’t contain it even if he tried. Both of them would feel it, even his sister. The flood gates had opened and there was no intention of them closing any time soon. 

“Rate yourself and rake yourself  
Take all the courage you have left  
And waste it on fixing all the problems  
That you made in your own head”

Whiplash gave a sigh and set the glass down. His wings twitched ever so lightly and he glanced around the bar before his optics settled on the bar top. It was his own fault really. He distanced himself from them. He delved into the illegal setting and hung around dangerous company. He wasn’t known for his intelligence though. His impulse controlled him. His compulsive lying to weasel his way out of situations and inability to take responsibility for his actions landed him here. In the exact seat he was sitting in. He had been sober for roughly eight orbital cycles or so, but the stress of his situation had driven him to drink. It wasn’t much, but he had failed. He’d fallen in relapse. He swore that he’d get better. He promised he would try his best. He couldn’t even do that right. 

His left servo balled itself into a fist around the glass. Coolant stung his optics and he didn’t even register the stinging in his palm until one of the bartenders started chewing him out for the damage done to the glass holding his high grade. He blinked a few times, slowly uncurling his servo. High grade and energon mixed together on the bar, glass spreading out. He frowned. Frag… 

He grabbed a small napkin and started to clean up the mess, ignoring the bartender who kept on griping and moaning about the small accident. He shot the mech an irritated look and slammed down enough shanix to cover the cost before he abruptly stood and marched his way out of the bar. 

He used the napkin to clean off his hand before tossing it. He did a once over of the damage and decided it wasn’t worth seeing a medic over. It would heal within a cycle or so. Nothing to fuzz over. 

As he walked out he gave a glance to the sky. He sighed at how late it was getting. He should probably head off to recharge soon. Or at least try to. He hadn’t been resting much since the incident. He stayed up, thinking. 

Thinking was never good in Whiplash’s case. His mind would often veer off into darkness when he was left alone with his thoughts for too long. It was dangerous. He blamed himself for everything that had gone wrong. It was all his fault. Every bit of it. The reason Flashbang disappeared. The reason his lover, Whisper, whom he exposed his most vulnerable part of him too cheated. The reason his own brother slept with his conjunx endura. The reason his life was so fucked up. 

“But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?  
Didn't I, my-“

He blinked himself out of his head and sighed, turning down the sidewalk. He headed back to his small complex, head down and wings displaying his internal agony. He contemplated reopening the link that had since been closed off ever since the confrontation, but he quickly decided against it. No matter how much he wanted the others to feel his pain, he knew deep down that he deserved this. 

He understood why Whisper and Haphazard did it. He had been emotionally and physically distant to both of them recently. And so they seeked comfort in each other. And unfortunately that comfort turned into something more. 

He always knew he was never worthy of true love. Why would he be? He was the screw up of the trine. All he was good for was destruction. It’s all he succeeded in. During the war, he was one of the best seekers. He took out more Autobots and human settlements then he could count on both servos. He was made to kill. To tear apart. To destroy. 

“Tremble for yourself, my man  
You know that you have seen this all before  
Tremble, little lion man  
You'll never settle any of your scores”

Whiplash, unable to handle the demons in his head, transformed and blasted off into the sky. He needed a distraction. He needed to stop thinking. He just needed action. He needed to destroy. 

He twirled through the dusk sky, the reflection of purples, blues, and pinks lighting up his white and orange frame. The wind around him formed a protective barrier, not that he needed it. It just...it was a comfort to him. His outlier ability made was more of a friend than anyone else. He could manipulate the air around him. Control it. Make it do whatever he pleased. He has used it for malintent or just to mess around plenty of times, but rarely did he use it to soothe his aching spark. This was that rare time. 

There wasn’t anyone that could comfort him. It was just him and the wind. 

“Your grace is wasted in your face  
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck  
Now learn from your mother or else  
Spend your days biting your own neck”

When he finally landed, the suns had started to rise again. He perched himself on a small cliff, on a mountainside away from society. 

It was nice. Being up high, away from the judgemental glares. He couldn’t stand those. The dirty looks. The hateful stares. He still wore his insignia with pride. Sure, it was faded and chipped, but he didn’t need one for others to know his previous faction. A majority of seekers had joined the war in favor of the decepticons. That and his face had been plastered all over the galaxy on wanted posters at some point in time. 

For now he just needed to keep his face off of bounties. Especially ones coming out of a specific citadel. 

He had said some not-so-nice things to both Haphazard and Whisper. Mainly the latter. He could hardly even look at his brother that day. There’s no doubt in his processor that Nightrain had put some form of bounty on him. Or perhaps just a ‘kill on sight’ order if he dared return. 

Whisper was Nightrain’s number one hunter. Insulting her was practically insulting him. That and he seemed to care about her more than a boss does his employee. Maybe it was because her and Anarchy were best friends, or they have a pre-established close relationship with one another. Either way, it was certain that his head would be on a pile if he even so much as looked at the planet. 

And he wasn’t about to risk his spark for false love. 

“But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?”

What felt like cycles was only a few hours. He just sat on the ledge, legs dangling over the edge. His optics stared up into the sky. He wasn’t focused on anything in particular. His mind had wandered to past memories. Happy ones. The moment he realized he was in love, the mischief he got into with his trine, the emergence of his sparklings. The day he and Whisper became one. 

He ducked his head down and his optics were screwed shut tight. His servos balls into fists and he pounded the ground next to him. It hurt so much.

He finally let it all out. A loud scream ripped through his vocalizer, the wind around him picking up speed. It formed a cone around him, like a tornado but much stronger and much deadlier. 

His screams lasted for minutes. The vortex that surrounded him grew in size with each passing second. 

Then...it was silent. The wind went still and Whiplash fell over. He was in a free fall, plummeting to his doom without a care in the world. 

He opened up his spark bond one last time. He wanted them to know the exact moment his spark extinguished. He wanted them to feel the pain he had suffered. 

But it never came. 

“But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?  
Didn't I, my dear?”

Whiplash came online with a jump, optics wide and body fizzing out in his panic. His wings shot out and knocked over medical equipment. That tripped the alarm and nurses and doctors rushed in the room to sedate him. 

He got a few good swings in till the drugs took their effect and knocked him out once more. 

It was about a joor till he onlined again. This time he had restraints on his wrists and legs. His wings were clamped behind his back uncomfortably. 

Weakly, he tugged and pulled at the cuffs but he wasn’t getting out of them until the doctors deemed him safe. 

He didn’t even realize the extra person in the room until he heard them give a small tap to the side of the medical berth. 

Lazily, he turned his head to look at them. Great...a shrink. Just what he needed. 

“But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?”

The shrink, who’s name he didn’t bother to remember, tried to get him to open up for hours. He didn’t budge. He just stared blankly at the wall ahead. 

He hadn’t intended to end it all then and there. It was an impulsive decision. He had fallen forward and couldn’t find the energy to transform and fly up to safety. He was so tired. Of everything. Physically and emotionally. He didn’t think...no...he knew no one would miss him. Why would they? All he ever did was ruin everything. 

He ruined his relationship with his sister, his brother, his wife...even possibly his kids now. They wouldn’t care if he was gone. It would be a weight off their shoulders. Maybe now Haphazard and Whisper could live their happy life with sparklings of their own. 

He was a fool to think anyone could ever truly love him. 

“But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?  
Didn't I, my dear?”

When he was finally released from hospital care, he was placed into a rehabilitation facility. He saw the flyer and asked about it. It was usually for drug addicts or alcoholics, but they offered their services to everyone. 

He had plenty of time to think while he was kept in a hospital room. About himself. His future. He had decided that he didn’t want to end it all just yet. He still had things he wanted to do. Places he wanted to see. And his children….he couldn’t leave them behind. He wanted to attempt to contact them. To reach out and apologize for the suffering they might have gone through. Not knowing where he was and if he was ever coming back. 

He took it upon himself to sign up. He was going to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to. 

In the many months he’s been there, he worked hard to get where he was now. He had an amazing psychiatrist, Dr. Daybreaker, and he had made some friends in the little group he was with. He had a stable job, and was finally...happy. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to contact his old life, but he will. He just needed time. And he hoped they would come to understand. They didn’t need to forgive him for his actions, but he wanted them to understand he took responsibility for once in his life and attempted to turn it around for the better. That’s all he could want from them.


End file.
